Memoirs of a HERC Pilot
by Dragon-Raptor
Summary: This is actually a Earthseige 2 fic, but as there is no such catorgory here... A look into the past of my 'AL' Saga 'verse, back when Christian was still on Earth fighting the Cybrids. May be expanded with more little snipets in no particular order...
1. Landing Challenge

**DR: **HI, I've put this here since there is no Earthseige section here on FF. This may grow into a seris of 'snap shots' of the life of Christian Masters (from my 'Ancient Legacies' Story saga) During the war with the Cybrids. First up is one of the pivotal missions in the game.

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Landing Challenge

Christian cursed as he felt the shudders run through his mighty HERC. It was something he was familiar with: the clatter of autocannon rounds, their velocity degraded by his HERC's shield, bouncing off the heavy armour. While it was nothing to worry about by itself, it signified something much worse. A Cybrid HERC was here.

Christian kicked the controls, pushing the lumber Ogre HERC behind the Cybrid shuttle, putting it between him and the Cybrid. As he did so, he thought back to the mission briefing.

"_Commander, we've got confirmation to go for those Cybrid assault shuttles you scouted out before. This is the chance we've been waiting for. We need you to take out their weapons, without destroying those shuttles. I don't need to remind you that we are losing this war. If he can't strike at Prometheus himself, the human race will be wiped off the face of Earth."_

Christian had asked about support, both his and the Cybrids. Intel had informed him that they could get him in there only, no back up. Conversely the Cybrids had no units in the area either.

'_Yea, right…' _He thought as he assessed the situation. When he arrived, there had been a half dozen Stingrays. The tiny scout Cybrids had easily fallen to Christian's titanic Ogre, the largest and toughest HERC ever built. There were rumours of a new Cybrid model that was even more deadly, but so far no one had sighted one… or survived to report encountering it. All they had on the new model was the name given to it by Prometheus… Cerberus.

But Christian was a soldier, and a damn good one. He had won the Victoria Cross, the first for almost fifty years, when he was barely sixteen. Something like that drew attention. Christian had lost count of the number of Cybrids he had destroyed in battle.

So despite his concerns, he had mounted up. Cutting through the thin defences, he had engaged the shuttles directly. Each one was a prickly opponent, despite being sitting ducks. On three of the six sides they mounted a pair of lasers and a missile battery, good ones too. Many a pilot had underestimated the shuttles weapons… and died.

But Christian had faced them before, and won. Of course, those times he had been intent on destroying them, not disabling them, so he had to place his shots very carefully. Hence the full load of lightweight lasers, rather than his standard load out of medium autocannons, heavy lasers and ELFs.

He had just finished taking out the weapons on the second shuttle when this new Cybrid had crested a nearby hill, hidden from his radar by the rise, and opened fire.

Quickly he switched targets, cancelling his lock on the shuttle and refocusing on the new HERC. His radar locked in as he stepped out from behind the shuttle.

"Oh crap!"

What was approaching him was something he had never seen before. It was a monster, huge missile bays each side of the smaller central body, the baleful blue Cybrid eye staring out. Thin arms were projected out further, the ends of each tipped with weapons.

Just with his visual inspection, he could see eight weapons attached to the Cybrid. Add in those twin missile bays, and this thing had just as much firepower as his Ogre. More in fact, as Christian had switched out the missile pods for additional shields, an energy pod and an advanced targeting module. The computer quickly confirmed his assessment, only adding to it by determining the grades of the weapons.

"Okay, don't freeze up now…" He told himself, fighting back the urge to shiver. But he couldn't push back the cold analysis of the situation. _'I've only got seven 100 megawatt lasers. That thing's packing two 50mm ATC's, two missile pods, four 500 megawatt lasers, and a pair of EMP cannons. The odds are really against me here…"_

The Cybrid fired first, the EMP cannons each spiting out a blue sphere of charged plasma. While the plasma was too diffuse to do any real damage to a HERC's heavy armour, the danger came from the charged nature, which delivered a massive electro-magnetic pulse into the target. The blast would strip shields and short out systems, at least until the breakers reset.

The one bolt missed, but the second was dead on, sapping almost forty percent of Christian's forward shield strength. Shifting power from the rear shields, he pushed the lumber Ogre forwards, trying to get in range. A hail of cannon shells rained down on him, degrading the shields as they sapped the rounds speed. One sparked off Christian's cockpit armour, setting off an instinct to duck.

"_Commander Masters, report." _Trust command to demand an update now! _"Have you disabled those shuttles yet?" _The men tasked with taking over the shuttles were waiting a few kilometres away, with the rest of his unit guarding them.

"Negative. I've got a situation on my hands here…" Christian answered as he fired off a volley from his lasers. At this range the beams were barely enough to hurt the monster bearing down on him, but it was something.

"_Say again…? What is your situation?"_

"My situation is neck deep in trouble! Intel screwed up again!" Christian snapped as the Cybrid unleash its missiles. Two warheads slammed into the forward shield, sapping power and rocking the heavy HERC back a step.

"_Commander Masters, we can't afford to wait long! Cybrid forces are certainly inbound! We need you to disarm those shuttles now!"_

The two HERCs were closing fast, laser flashing between them. Christian's beams stabbed out again and again, each time sending ripples across the surface of the Cybrids shields. In return the Cerberus was pouring everything back, lasers and autocannons, savaging his own shields.

"Hey, you want to dance with this Cerberus?" Silence was the only reply to Christian's bark. "Didn't think so. So shut up and let me concentrate!"

Most HERC battles were not about manoeuvring, but about position, target and weapon selection, numbers. But in nearly all cases, it always boiled down to one battle plan… a slugging match. Who ever had the tougher HERC with the most guns, wins.

Right now Christian felt sweat run down his back. The Ogre was as tough as they come, but it was about as swift footed as a tortoise. So far, the Cerberus was even slower, but it appeared even tougher. Certainly it had strong shielding, as Christian was having trouble seeing if the things shields had weakened at all.

The EMP cannons flared again, and once more one hit. This time however it totally demolished the shields, leaving the Ogre bare. Two missiles followed in the bolts wake, slamming into the human built machine. Christian had to fight the sluggish controls to keep it upright.

Cursing loudly, Christian opened fire, his lasers spitting out their beams as fast as they could cycle. With the demands of both the weapons and the shields, the energy pool was shrinking.

The pounding of autcannon hits resounded around him, but Christian fought to keep his lasers on target. Alarms began to wail when he saw his first beam strike metal. The Cybrid didn't even flinch as the human's laser began to stab into it. It just primed and fired another pair of missiles.

Seeing the flare of the warheads, Christian swung the torso about, turning away from the Cybrid. The move made the one missile shoot by, skimming the Ogre's rear before arcing away to strike a bank of heavy snow.

The second struck square and true on the starboard side, throwing the Ogre to the left and giving Christian a gut wrenching kick.

Shaking the stars from his eyes, Christian swung back around as he checked the damage. Two lasers were down, the right torso torn apart. Autocannon rounds were punching through his armour and tearing into his internals, but Christian had not become a HERC veteran by giving up. Engaging the targeting module, he aimed for the hip joints.

Five laser beams stabbed out, linking the two HERCs for an instant. The combined beams were not enough to burn through the thick armour, but Christian had not banked on that. Instead his aim was a little high, for the armour just above the joint. As he had hoped, the molten metal his lasers had created flowed down into the joint before solidifying in the sub zero temperatures of the Antarctic. The Cybrid lurched as the hip joint was locked in position.

Knowing that the temporary weld would not hold long, Christian refocused his fire, the lasers stabbing out again and again, probing for weaknesses. The Cybrid gave back as good as it got, the autocannons and lasers tearing into Christian's mount. One round punched through the tough bullet-proof glass and raced above his head. Smoke rose from under several panels as systems shorted, and Christian could feel the Ogre slow as the leg motors were damaged.

Two more missiles were launched, this time both hitting, one each side of the cockpit. Due to the flare of the explosions, Christian didn't see how one of his laser beams had gone inside the one missile pod when the hatch was open. Nor did he see how the whole right side of the Cerberus blew apart as the missiles within blew.

Gripping the controls once more, Christian peered through the smoke to see the Cerberus straightening up again, the entire right side gone. Seeing his chance, his peppered the HERC with laser fire, trying to target the right side. Those last two missiles had knocked out his targeting system.

Something flared within the Cybrid, and then a massive explosion tore it apart. Chucks of metal went flying away as the body disintegrated. One leg toppled one way, the hip section and the other leg another.

Sighing in relief, Christian sagged in his seat, exhaustion filling his body. He sat there for a long moment, the cold air seeping in through the damaged cockpit while the air around him was filled with the whining alarms. It was only when the radio crackled again that he stirred.

"_Predator 1, this in Command, please respond. Commander Masters are you there? Commander we've lost your tracking signal. Commander, are you there?"_

Slowly he raised his hand to the mike.

"Yea, I'm still here…"

X-X-X-X-X-X

Half an hour later the others arrived, the trio of heavy duty snow trucks advancing in column with the three Apocalypse HERCs of Christian's unit formed up ahead of them in a wedge. As such they were the first to see his damaged HERC

"Christian! God what happened to you?"Lt Susan Grayson called when she saw the walking wreck that was the Ogre. Slabs of armour were torn and shredded, the entire right side a twisted mess. Smoke rose in thin streams from within, and a spiders wed of cracks ran across the whole front pane of the canopy. The whole HERC looked like it was two tottering steps away from the scrap yard.

"_Oh, not much. Just had a tussle with one of those new Cerberus HERCs…" _Christian deadpanned.

"_Honestly, you are about the only person I know who could pass off THAT as the result of a 'tussle'!" _Auri Kane commented scathingly, her HERC coming to a stop by the smoking remains of the Cerberus. The many autocannons glinted in the light as she turned the heavy body to face him. _"I bet you're also injured."_

"_No, no injuries…" _Christian replied before pausing. _"But it is a little chilly. I think I've picked up a draft."_

Susan shook her head as she stared at the round hole in the canopy of Christian's HERC. _'Oh why did I have to fall in love with you?'_

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**DR: **There we go, a little insight into the past. I hope to do more of these in the future, but I can't garrantee anything at this time... If you're not from the Zoids section here on and want to know now about the characters, then please read my story 'Ancient Legacies' located in the zoids section. I always apreciate reviews! 


	2. Return to War

**DR: **As I'm in a good mood (lots of reviews for the latest chapter of my main story!) and my employment future is looking up, I've decided to post this second entry. This time we jump back to the start of the Second War, and we learn a little more about Christian's past.

Just to explain the opening few paragraphs, I envisage that when the Cybrids first revolted they destroyed most of the hardware belonging to the military's around the world. Thus now the humans have to scrap together whatever they can find... Enjoy!

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Return to War

The ancient plane droned across the globe, no where near as high as it would have done a hundred years ago when it was built. But so many things had changed since that. Despite its age, Christian Masters, newly restored to full military rank, didn't doubt the old Hercules transport, which still sported the old Royal Air Force roundel on its wings. With so few planes these days, every one was looked after with great care.

Nothing said that more than the escort the transport had. At various points he'd seen all four of them, two each side. All from varied times and homes.

The most advanced plane was a YF-22 Raptor, one of the last mass produced warplanes the old USA had created… before the Cybrid Uprising. Fast, agile and with some stealth capabilities, it fitted the name well.

Alongside was a much older plane from across the world, a Mig-21. It had been created in the height of the Cold War between Russia and America to fight American planes. After the Soviet Union had collapsed, Mig-21's had been shipped to every third world country on the planet… along with a lot of other ex-Russian equipment.

An ex-RAF Tornado made up the third member of the flight. Of a similar age to the transport, the dependable fighter-bombers kept on soldiering on. Christian's keen eyes had seen where the wings and fuselage had been patched over too many times to count.

The last member of the flight was both the oldest and the oddest. Christian had been floored when he realised he was looking at a genuine, flying Messerschmitt 262, over a hundred and fifty years old. The thing was a relic, a dinosaur. But with a few modifications and upgrades it was serving the Terran Defence force's needs.

Just like him. Duty came before everything.

He leaned back, thinking back to… this morning?

A squad of troops had arrived at the small home he was living, on the western edge of a smallish town in the heart of the Home Counties, England. According to his childhood stories, this was the area where his grandmothers lost love had lived. It was a sad tale her life. They had only one night together… before tragic fate had snatched him away just when she realised just how wonderful he was. She had never looked at another man again.

He had been driven to the local Terran Defence Outpost, where he had been led into a small communication room. Once the door had been closed a line had been opened and the screen before him lit up.

"_Welcome back to the fight Solider. I hope you enjoyed your leave."_

"General Gerling. If you wanted to talk you should have visited. And my _retirement_ was going just fine thank you."

The smug old bastard had chuckled. _"Masters I'm sorry to have to do this to you but we need you. Earth needs you."_

"General, with all due respect… get to the point."

Gerling had lost his jovial look. _"Okay, I'll get right to the point. The Cybrids are back, in a big way."_

That single word had caused him to sit bolt upright in his chair, flicking the switch in his mind from 'uninterested civilian' to 'full on hard core solider'.

"_They've already touched down in Alpha, Delta and Echo sectors."_

Christian had translated the code phrases for the continents without even straining. _'North America, North Africa and Antarctica… Oh man!' _On the screen Gerling had pushed on.

"_Our spy sats detected a massive base complex on the far side of the Moon before they got blasted. Intelligence confirms that _Prometheus_ is operating from this site."_

"So that's where he ran too…" Christian muttered. He'd nearly gotten the overgrown super computer seven years ago, but the traitorous computer had managed to stay one step ahead of him. He couldn't help but wonder just _how _Intelligence had managed to confirm Prometheus' presence.

"_We're working on a plan to deal with the base but right now our priority is defending Earth. I'm posting you to Alpha Sector, where we're about to begin trials of our new Airskimmer prototype. You'll be one of the test pilots. If the Razor checks out, we can go into full production. Good hunting solider and welcome back to the fight Captain." _The American General had looked positively cheered that he had dragged Christian out of his happy retirement.

Once Gerling cut the transmission Christian had been bundled out of the chamber and to a waiting helicopter. One rapid, noisy and bumpy ride later he was dragged out of the small craft and guided into the belly of this plane, the four turboprops already turning over.

Only now, almost nine hours, was he at last catching up with everything.

Christian leaned back in his hard and uncomfortable seat, closing his eyes as he tipped his head back. He'd barely had the chance to dress to go out, let alone to lock the door. Who knew when he would get a chance to return home.

But the worst part was that he hadn't had the chance to call Susan. They'd first met six years ago, at the remembrance of the Cybrid War. Her older brother had been a HERC pilot, and so she'd been there, to honour his name. He'd died in that last brutal month of the war.

Christian had been shocked when he saw her. In fact it had taken a slap on the back from one of his fellow pilots to snap him out of the daze he'd fallen into.

Christian knew very little about his Grandmother and her life, back at the turn of the millennium. But there were still remains of her life; photos, little notes scrawled on scraps of paper, an old hair brush. When he was a little boy he'd often see her, despite the very real danger of the war going on all around them. Even if he hadn't appreciated it at the time she had aged very well. Though her hair was completely silver, her face looked at least ten years younger than the others in the home. But there had been something in her eyes… a look of someone who had already died, and whose body is lingering on.

It was on his last visit that she told him the tale of the man she loved and lost. He'd been twelve, and she'd almost cried when she saw him. He hadn't had a chance to visit for several years.

When he asked her why she was crying, she told him it was because he looked so much like her young man, her 'Chris'. She'd told him about her man's troubled youth, but that he'd grown beyond what anyone had expected. She'd pressed a number of old photos into his young hand. Photos of her youth… and him.

At the time, he'd been amazed at how lovely she had been in those photos. In fact he'd had a little trouble relating the young, carefree women in the picture, with her full cheeks, happy smile and dark burette hair to his listless grandmother. She hadn't been supermodel grade – too much meat on her – but that meant that she placed more value on her health rather than on appearance. Besides, she was more radiant & beautiful than any of them. But it was the young man in some of the pictures, some alone and some with her, that drew the bulk of his attention.

The young man in the pictures was an older, plumper version of himself. His hair was a tad darker, and he was modestly overweight, but the facial structure was the same. There was a bit of a haunted, guarded look in his eyes, but certainly he looked happy.

Three days later he got word that she had passed away in her sleep. Some of the nurses had heard her muttering in her sleep, and they swore that she had whispered 'Chris' with such longing and love that it had caused them to feel tears forming in their eyes. Then she smiled, just like in the photos… and then she was gone.

Christian could only hope that where ever she was now, she was with her man.

During the long years of war that followed, he'd rarely got the chance to think about her, the sweet childhood memories suppressed under the horrors of war. But then a young woman's face had brought the whole thing back.

For this women wore his grandmothers 'young' face.

It had taken him four years to find out who she was, and then summon up the courage to contact her. At first things had been slow and tentative, but over the last couple of months things had been going very well between them. Strangely well, since in the past Christian had never been very good around women. Oh he understood them well enough, but taking things beyond 'friendship'…

A sudden jolt snapped him out of his revive. _"Sorry sir, turbulence. We'll be landing soon." _The pilot radioed from the cockpit.

Christian sighed as he checked his belts and straightened his jacket. Very soon now he would have to return to the figure he had become eight years ago. The 'Great Hero'. No room for personal feelings or attachments. In the world he was about to renter there were only tactical displays, weapon gauges and controls, explosions and screams of dieing pilots.

And of course the blue deathly glare of Cybrid computer eyes.

He hated that most of all.

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**DR: **And there we are. Can't tell when another chapter will go up. All depends if the muse strikes me I guess... 


	3. Honour Thy Fallen

**DR: **Okays, here's a little scene that I've had in my head for a while, but I'd yet to type up. Short, but I don't think that matters too much. Not with this...

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Honour Thy Fallen 

Everyone in the mess fell quiet when General Gerling stood up.

"People, we have all won a great victory yesterday. With the Cybrid Command Elements gone, the remaining Cybrid force will crumble. From now on it's a mopping up action. Earth belongs to us, and no overgrown walking toaster will kick us off our world!"

From the tables that filled the room a resounding cheer rose up, from the dozens of HERC pilots and the hordes of technicians who kept their mighty war machines running. Intermingled with them were those members of base personal who were off duty, the rest still manning the turrets and the command centre.

However there was one table that was silent. Not one person at that table cheered. Yes the destruction of the Command Elements, the Achilles Heal of the Cybrid war effort, was a major victory, but the price…

Christian looked up at the General, his face smiling broadly, lapping up the good cheer. _'What right does he have to… he wasn't there…'_ He felt a hand cover his own, and he looked up to see the concerned of Susan, her dark hair curling around her head while her eyes reflected his feelings, but also asking him to not do anything rash.

Across the table from the two of them, Auri looked at her husband Richter, a look of understanding passing between them.

"And before I let you all get back to celebrating, I have one final piece of business…" Gerling turned to look towards where Christian was sat. "In recognition of his bravery and determination, Command has decided to award Captain Christian Masters the Congressional Medal of Honour."

As he held out the decoration, a relic from the old United States and adopted into the award scheme of the Terran Defence Force, The entire room once more burst out into cheering. For a long moment it looked like Christian was not going to stand up, but then he slowly stood, before stepping over to the General. Gerling smiled as he lifted the ribbon to place the medal around Christian, but then the warriors arm came up and stopped him.

The gathered crews fell silent as one, stunned by his action. They couldn't believe their eyes. Christian was _refusing _the award?

Slowly Christian turned away from the shocked general, to look towards the gathered warriors. He slowly lifted the mug he had held in his hands throughout.

"There are those you deserve this award far more than I. I did my duty, to the human race. They truly lived up to the ideal that this award was created for." He paused for a second, his mug raised high.

"To Karen Walker... Jacob Miles... Steven Hunter… Ronald Ivy… Jacqui Lerenzo… Lucas Stevenson… Frederick Skiler… Manfred Guther…" on and on he went, listing the names of every HERC pilot who had died in the battle to reach the Command Elements. Most of them had died holding back the Cybrid reinforcements, preventing them from assisting the base against Masters unit as they smashed into the base.

"…Tracy Ronsenberg… Nicolas Sterner… Ja… James Miller." The last name hitched in his throat. James Miller had been a part of his team. He could still see Millers HERC exploding, the venerable Apocalypse shattering as its reactor went critical. And he could still hear James's dying scream as the inferno of a breached fusion reactor consumed him.

After a long moment, Christian pushed on. "And to David Marconry… Alec McKay…" And he started listing those who had died in the days leading up to the assault. Even before he was halfway through tears were gathering at the corners of everyone's eyes.

Susan Grayson watched him fondly, proud of his strength of character. Over his shoulder she could General Gerling, forgotten by everyone, looking put out, but also with a mixture of guilt and annoyance on his face. Christian was reminding them all of the cost, and throwing a damper on his celebration. But he was reminding him of those who had fallen under his command.

At last Christian reached the last couple of fallen. "…Jim Smith… Jane Summers… Michelle Petroski. As long as we remember them, and honour their memories, then their sacrifices will not be in vain." He raised his mug higher. "We will remember them."

As one the gathered personal echoed him, the low murmuring blanketing the room. Afterwards no one spoke or cheered, their thoughts turning back, remembering the fallen.

Gerling was the first to speak up, unhappy with the way the celebration he had put together was going. "Well, lets drink to them, and then tomorrow we go out and mop up the remaining Cybrids huh?" He half smiled, hoping to inspire a cheer.

Silence fell after he spoke, his jovial tone falling flat.

That silence was shattered before anyone could respond by the wailing of the alarms. _"All personal, red alert! We have inbound Cybrid units, ground and air! Repeat, we have inbound Cybrids! All personal to defence posts! HERC pilots to the hanger!" _

After a moments shook the mess hall dissolved into chaos, drinks abandoned as everyone scrambled to get out. As the stream of humans tore out of the doorway, Christian turned back to look at the general.

"Looks like we won't have to go looking for the Cybrids sir." Was all he said as he placed his glass by the medal before turning and sprinting off, after his team.

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**DR: **There we have it. Yes, I have basically copied a bit of nuBSG. It's about the only time Kara acts responsibly IMHO (don't get me started...) 


End file.
